


A more happy fate.

by Alexander_Slamilton



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: 1782 au, American Revolution, Disgustingly fluffy, Fluff, I AM IN DENIAL, I need to be stopped, LOOK AT THEM, Lafayette has a potty mouth and needs to be stopped, M/M, So is Lafayette, Swearing in French, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Wow, also a little bit porny, also kinda funny if i say so myself, and english, cause that totally did not happen, happy fic!, have a happy fic, it is gross really, john is a tickle monster, just go with it, my revolutionary sons, nice, really happy fic, so fluffy there's hairballs, so in denial, there is literally no angst at all, victory fic!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-11 20:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7906468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Slamilton/pseuds/Alexander_Slamilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I feel the deepest affliction at the news we have just received of the loss of our dear and inestimable friend Laurens. His career of virtue is at an end. How strangely are human affairs conducted, that so many excellent qualities could not ensure a more happy fate?" ~ Alexander Hamilton, October 12th 1782.</p><p>Alexander does his best to convince Laurens that his fate lies in Philadelphia; not South Carolina.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Side by side.

The war was over, ticker tape streamed from the heavens; drummers were drumming and the streets were alive with people. They leant out from the windows, waving handkerchiefs and cheered in delight. Red coats streamed down the main road like a river of blood, escorted on either side by troops in blue and gold. Alexander sat on his horse, his face trained on the back of the man in front. George Washington sat atop his steed, looking every bit the demigod the men thought him to be. His back was pin straight, his head held up high; Alexander knew the smile he wore, it was a mere curl of his lips, something you really had to look for to find. 

 

“We won,” the man sitting on the horse next to Alex’s said.

 

“We won,” Alex echoed, “now can I convince you to join me in Philadelphia?”

 

“That is not where my destiny, lies,” John Laurens smiled, a stray strand of hair blew in front of his eyes. 

 

“It is! It is my friend, if not in Philadelphia, then where?” Alexander was confused. He had been trying to persuade John to join him for months, since the end of the war had been in sight.

 

“South Carolina is my home. Right now, it is still under British control. Why free the north if the south is left lagging behind in the mud?” John’s southern drawl became far more pronounced when he talked of home. Alexander tried to pretend that he didn't notice, that he hadn’t spent so much time listening to the inflections in his friend’s voice.

 

“You’ll meet your death there, if you go, you will not come back,” Alexander shivered, knowing somehow those words were true.

 

“Then it will be an honourable death,” John grimaced slightly, just a momentary quirk of his mouth, though his voice held no hint of fear.

 

“It will not, it would be a waste of a man who loves this country like no other I know,” Alexander’s tone was firm, he would not budge on his position, “I will not let you go, I will petition to Washington to stop you. To order you to stay north.”

 

“Why?” John’s hands tightened on the reins of his horse. 

 

“Because! We’ve fought to make America free, why not strive, together, to make her happy? Put your sword away at last, put on the toga. I would be lost without you, someone who is my political double. We share the same policies, the same opinions; there is no one in this country who I can confide in. There is no one like you, to me,” Alexander managed to keep his voice steady, “I would be missing a piece of myself without you.”

 

“I can not abandon my home to the British,” John ground out.

 

“You would not have to. Go to Washington, ask him to send battalions down to South Carolina, just do not go there yourself. Please, John, I beg you, come to Philadelphia with me,” Alexander was not above begging.

 

“Fine,” he said at last, uttering the word with such a venomous tone that Alexander had never heard directed at himself, “but I am not wearing a damn toga. If Washington refuses to send troops there, then I will have to go. If he agrees then I will go to Philadelphia.” John turned his focus back on the crowd, taking in the sight of freedom, of triumph.

 

“A reasonable deal,” Alexander conceded, though never had he felt such worry, never had he been more afraid for his friend’s safety. This was saying something, John Laurens had such a casual disregard for his own life, his safety had largely relied upon his friends’ quick thinking and constant vigilance. 

 

“We should not be arguing today, of all days, let us put this petty quarrel behind us and enjoy the festivities. Goodness knows we have not tasted triumph such as this in five years,” John tipped his head back, looking at the sky before he gave the crowd a joyful, boyish smile. Alexander could see the ladies swoon, fanning their fans and throwing their flowers at the young men. He was not above flirting, in fact it was something he did well; nor was he above some healthy competition.

 

“I bet you three dollars, I can make seven ladies swoon by the end of the street,” he said, winking at John.

 

“Only seven? I bet I can make _ten_ ladies swoon,” John laughed, waving at one, who blushed and ducked her head. “Actually, Hammie, make that eleven.”

 

“Twelve then,” he grinned.

 

“You’re on.” They were waving and smiling as the crowd cheered, ladies were blushing and giggling so much Hamilton couldn't remember what their faces looked like. 

 

The parade finished as they made their way out of Yorktown and into the open pastures and clear views of the dockyards. British Galleons crowded up at the ends of the docks, sails and ropes creaking in the wind. Only half of their men would be setting sail on these boats, the rest would be escorted to Philadelphia and sent on their way from there. Alexander and John sat on their horses watching the troops stagger up the gangplanks and on to the waitingvessels. 

 

“I think, it is going to take me a while to believe that these five years really happened,” John sighed, his eyes still trained on the men walking to their ships.

 

“I am inclined to agree, it all seems like one horrible dream; perhaps we’ll wake up in our beds tomorrow and the war will never have happened,” Alexander looked over to his friend, studying his face, committing all the dips and lines to memory. 

 

“I hope not,” John said, smiling slightly.

 

“Why ever so?”

 

“Because, then dear Ham, I would never had had the pleasure of your friendship. As well as the fact that, I believe you owe me three dollars,” John quipped, leaning over to elbow him in the ribs.

 

“Oh? And what makes you think you won the bet?’

 

“Pray, do tell how many women you made swoon?” John grinned, all toothy and slightly lopsided, his eyes glinting in the sun.

 

“You first,” Alexander shook his head, the plume on his had fluttering. 

 

“No, you first,” John laughed.

 

“I asked you first,” Alexander folded his arms and made his eyes go round, like a puppy, it was a look that had won arguments with John before.

 

“Well, I asked you second,” John was obviously in a petulant mood.

 

“Fine, I counted fourteen,” Alexander gave up, eager to have the weight of three extra dollars in his pocket. 

 

“Ha! I counted sixteen.”

 

“No, no way,” Alexander shook his head fast, so the feather on his hat jiggled comically. 

 

“Come on, Hammie, pay up my friend. It would be terribly ungentlemanly not to pay one’s debts,” John said, holding out his palm.

 

“I don’t understand, I am far more handsome than you,” Alexander sighed dramatically.

 

“It’s just my southern charm,” John drawled, elongating his vowels, making his accent more polite.

 

“Well that’s bullshit, you spent the last seven years in Europe,” Alexander rummaged in his saddlebag, taking out his money pouch and offering the bills.

 

“Ensuite, il est mon charme européen,” John grinned, pocketing the money in his own pouch.

 

“Will you two be quiet for five minutes?” Lafayette looked at them, “Washington is going to give a speech, he’d be far less likely to offer troops to the south if the man petitioning for them talked all the way through his victory monologue.” 

 

“Sorry,” John said, “I was preoccupied.”

 

“Yes, with how many pretty girls you made swoon, now listen to our commanders’ speech,” Lafayette waved a gloved hand.

 

“Is that an order?” Alex asked, one eyebrow raised.

 

“Is that insolence?” the Marquis laughed.

 

“No, sir, sorry sir,” Alex said.

 

“I thought not.” Lafayette turned around and watched as Washington rode up and down the lines of men. Blue coat pristine against the British ships, sword gleaming as he spoke; his tricorn hat stark black against the sky. He gripped every man present, speaking words that Alexander had written a few days ago, in the hopes that the war would be won. 

 

***

 

They camped, that night, for one of the last nights on the outskirts of Yorktown. Tomorrow the march for Philadelphia would begin, and then the British would be sent home. And the real work would begin. Alexander was hit with the sudden realisation that this was one of the last nights he and John would share a room. After nearly five years of sleeping in the same room as him, Alexander had become quite attached to the sound of John’s steady, huffing breaths. He watched as the lump, that was John Laurens, shifted under his blankets and snuffled a little. Alexander was hit with another realisation, this one felt very much like a brick wall, he would very much much like to continue sleeping in the same room as John Laurens. It wasn't just the man’s company he would miss, it was something else. Something that could only be described as _other_ , something intangible, indescribable, ineffable; the list could go on. He rolled over to face the white canvas roof of the tent, the blankets on his bed rustling slightly as he did so. The more he pondered the more the thoughts seemed to take root in his head. The more he was able to define what he was feeling. He had never felt like this for another man, though he’d certainly lusted after them, (Lafayette was a thing of innocent beauty with a hidden sensuality that was almost irresistible) he’d also never actually acted on his thoughts. 

 

The hot air curled around him, stifling his breathing as though someone was holding a pillow over his mouth and nose. He was surprised John could sleep, at least he thought John was asleep. He tensed and turned over again to face the other man.

 

“I can hear you thinking, please turn off your brain and go to sleep,” John muttered from his side of the tent.

 

“This is the last time we will share a room, after five years I would have thought it would mean more to you,” Alexander huffed, pretending to be offended.

 

“Alexander, I highly doubt this is the last time we will sleep in the same place. Though, I would be glad if it were, because then I would not have to deal with you at goodness knows what time in the morning. Now will you please go to sleep.” Alexander had forgotten just how much John enjoyed his sleep.

 

“I simply cannot.”

 

“Alexander Hamilton, if you do not go to sleep I will pick you up and manhandle you outside of this tent. You can go and sleep with Tilghman if you like,” John sat up now, the blankets falling off his chest, revealing the white nightshirt he wore. The ties had come undone, and his collar bones were visible, in fact most of his chest was visible the cut of the shirt was so low. His hair was down, and it brushed along his shoulders obscuring the column of neck. 

 

“I’d really rather not sleep with Tilghman,” Alex said, not even pausing when he understood the innuendo. 

 

“Really, Hamilton, how old are you? Twelve?” John sighed, leaning on his arms.

 

“Oh, so it’s Hamilton, now, not even Alexander,” Alex smiled, sitting up as well.

 

“Only when you’re acting like a child,” John’s voice was stern but it lacked any venom.

 

“I am less than two months younger than you!” Alex snapped.

 

“Wait what?” John’s head snapped round to face him, in the semi darkness of the tent, Alexander could see his eyes go round.

 

“I- what?” Alex was confused.

 

“Tench told me you were born in ’57,” John said, “he said, you said you were born in 57?”

 

“Ah, yes about that, when I registered for Kings College, I erm-“

 

“You changed the year of your birth,” John finished.

 

“Yes, I did, yes. I was ashamed,” he buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shook slightly, weighed down with shame.

 

“Of what?” John said, slightly exasperated.

 

“I didn’t want to be twenty and only just entering college, do you know how humiliating that would be?”

 

“Plenty of people go to college at twenty,” John moved from his bed to Alex’s placing a hand gently on his shoulder.

 

“To continue their studies, not to start them,” Alexander raised his head. “I’m sorry I lied to you, I should have made my age known.”

 

“It’s alright, though I think you should tell the Marquis that he now is friends with two old men; not just one,” John chuckled.

 

“Oh God, imagine his reaction,” Alex laughed.

 

“He’ll cry, probably,”John was full on guffawing now.

 

“Will you two stop talking, even at three in the fucking morning, you pair of idiots,” Lafayette suck his head into the tent, he was dressed in a nightshirt and a pair of breeches that were the wrong way round.

“Sorry, Lafayette,” Alex mumbled, still laughing under his breath.

 

“Lafayette, Ham has something he needs to tell you,” John snorted.

 

“Honestly, sometimes I have no idea how I am supposed to be younger than you two, go on Ham. What do you have to say?” Lafayette finally smiled and sat on John’s abandoned bed.

 

“I am not twenty four,” Alexander said, watching Lafayette closely, waiting for any negative reaction.

 

“Oh? Then how old are you?”

 

“Twenty seven.”

 

“Je suis ami avec deux vieillards? Comment me suis-je dans cette? Hélas!” The Marquis cried, before breaking into s fit of the giggles, very much unlike what John expected. “Twenty seven? My God Ham, you’re nearly thirty.”

 

“Ah, yes I suppose I am,” Alexander sighed, the happy atmosphere in the tent making him far more relaxed than he had been when the secret had first spilled.

 

“I know the perfect present, give me back the Plutarch book I gave to you, I have the perfect thing to replace it!” Lafayette was still smiling, a toothy; infectious grin.

 

“And what might that be, my dearest Marquis?” Alexander asked, with some trepidation.

 

“I have my father’s cane with me…”

 

“Lafayette! I am in no need of a cane, besides, John is still older than me,” Alex said folding his arms.

 

“Aye, he might be, but you strike me as someone who will need a cane, after Washington finds out you lied about your age,” Lafayette grew serious, though there was a gleam of villainous humour in his eye.

 

“You wouldn’t-“

 

“Try me,” he said, almost laughing at Alex’s panicked expression.

 

“Do not joke about this-“

 

“Why ever not?” He made to stand, but Alexander threw himself at the other man grabbing on to him and flinging them both to the floor where they wrestled for a few moments. The Marquis full on laughing as he tickled Alex. 

 

“John! John! Come defend your best friend’s honour, lest I fall to this- this abomination!” Alexander cried, as each word was punctuated by the pained laughs that could only be brought out by tickling. 

 

“Of course, my friend! I the heroic John Laurens will defend your honour!” John stood on the bed one arm extended towards the top of the tent as he sprang up on Lafayette, who was flung backwards, landing on his back. “Surrender! Gilbert!” John said, running his hands under Lafayette’s armpits.

 

“Jamais!” Lafayette said, trying to sit up, but failing under John’s weight. “Alexander, please call off your dog, I swear I will not tell Washington! I promise!” His voice was unsteady and shaking as John continued to tickle him. 

 

“John is not my dog, he is free to do as he likes, though if we keep this up we are going to wake the whole camp,” Alexander said, laughing at Lafayette’s plight.

 

“So be it! I am having far too much fun! I would have thought fighting in a war would have made you stronger Gilbert, instead you've still got those chicken arms you arrived with!” John laughed.

 

“I do not have chicken arms! Fils de pute, va te faire enculer!” 

 

“Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert! Language!” Alex gasped, pretending to be angry, though he was laughing too much for it be effective. 

 

“John, please, get off me… I can no longer breath. I do quite like being alive,” Lafayette gasped.

 

“Fine,” John almost sang it, drawing the word out as he got off from Lafayette, letting the younger man sit up and lean against John’s bed.

 

The three men looked at each other in silence for a long five seconds, before they all burst out laughing, tears streaming down their faces. Lafayette let out a huge yawn, so big he nearly coughed.

 

“Well, gentlemen, I am truly done in. If we are to be marching tomorrow, I need some sleep so as not to fall of my horse,” Lafayette stood up, brushing the dirt off his breeches, “damn you, Laurens, I have to _wear_ these tomorrow.” 

 

“Shouldn’t have pounced on my Alexander then,” John said, grinning as he shrugged. Alexander looked up at John as the words seemed to tumble out his friend’s mouth, heat pooled in his gut, curling up there like a dragon. His mouth fell open, though no sound came out. He couldn't take his eyes off John, who looked only at Lafayette.

 

“ _Your_ Alexander?” Lafayette raised an eyebrow.

 

“Aye, I am quite attached to him,” John said, without a hint of embarrassment.

 

“Very well then, I will leave you to _your_ Alexander then. Adieu, gentlemen and goodnight.” Lafayette bowed out of the tent. 

 

“I-“

 

“Alexander,” John seemed to taste the word, curling his lips and tongue around it. Tasting it as if for the first time, “ _Alexander._ ” The way he said Alex’s name changed slightly, the dragon inside him roared to life, breathing fanning the sparks in his gut in to flames. 

 

“So,” he breathed, “I take it you are coming to Philadelphia with me?”

 

John had turned to face him, his eyes wide; almost no colour was visible in them as they raked up and down Alex’s body. Taking each part of him in, from his dishevelled hair all the way to his bare feet, his toes curled as John then started to move towards him. John moved in a leonine manner, with a liquidity to the movement that only added to Alex’s arousal. 

 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” John said, so close to Alex’s face that he almost breathed the words straight into Alex’s mouth. 

 

Their bodies fitted together, perfect for each other, hot skin contained only under thin shirts. Alexander ran his hands over John’s torso, leaning against his bed, his legs stretched out in front of him; none of the humour of their tickling match carried over to these movements.John’s breaths came fast and sharp as he hovered over Alex, reluctant to touch him. 

 

“Tell me you want this?” John asked, his eyes hot as they made contact with Alex’s.

 

“My Laurens, I want nothing more in this moment, I want this so badly I fear my soul may break free from my body and I would die right here,” Alexander said, his eyes searching John’s.

 

“Your wish is my command, then,” John bent his head and connected their lips, dropping almost his full weight on Alex’s lap, straddling him, his knees encasing Alex’s hips. 

 

John’s lips felt as though they had been sculpted by God himself. Soft, slightly chapped and hot, oh so hot as they burned into Alex’s. And, his body, his body made of hard muscle and fiery skin had to have been blessed with angels’ hands. They moved together in languid harmony, no hint of desperation, as if they had all the time in the world. John disconnected himself from Alex’s lips only long enough to divest them both of their shirts and then the wonderful pressure was back and Alexander no longer felt like he was missing a piece of himself. 

 

“My Alexander,” John said, kissing down his neck.

 

“Yours, all yours,” Alexander gasped, running his hands over John’s back. 


	2. Hand in hand.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " “Please, sir, do not send him to South Carolina,” Alexander said, as he paced George Washington’s tent. It was late, but candles still burnt in the commander’s tent. Wax spilt on to the floor in finger like rivulets, splattering like blood on the rugs that covered the wood. 
> 
> “Why should I not send one of my most talented commanders, to where he needs to be? What reason do you have for this, my boy?” Washington looked up from the letter he had been penning, looking at Alex sharply. "

“Please, sir, do not send him to South Carolina,” Alexander said, as he paced George Washington’s tent. It was late, but candles still burnt in the commander’s tent. Wax spilt on to the floor in finger like rivulets, splattering like blood on the rugs that covered the wood. 

 

“Why should I not send one of my most talented commanders, to where he needs to be? What reason do you have for this, my boy?” Washington looked up from the letter he had been penning, looking at Alex sharply. 

 

“He can do far more for the country going in to battle with congress, than he can dying in battle in South Carolina.”

 

“Oh? But he is a soldier, he knows the risk he takes. If he were to truly believe what you say, he would resign, just as you did,” Washington shook his head, anger forming round the edges of his words, pacing there like a hungry lion. 

 

“Sir, please, you my words to be true-“

 

“Lieutenant Colonel Laurens can come and petition me himself, if he truly did not wish to be sent to South Carolina I would wager he would be by your side. Yet, unless mine eyes deceive me, he is no where to be seen. You are dismissed, Colonel Hamilton,” Washington said, standing and waving Hamilton out of the tent.

 

“Your Excellency, Sir,” John Laurens walked in, his head bowed, plumed cap in hand.

 

“Ah, so he does have a grievance with my command,” Washington sat, heavily in his chair, his hand coming up to scrub his face. He looked more tired than even during the winter at Morristown. “On with it, my boy.”

 

“For five years you have commanded me, for five years I have followed your every order, without complaint; without insolence. Do you still hold me in that respect, sir?” John asked, walking by Alexander, fixing Washington under his gaze.

 

“Yes, of course, Lieutenant Colonel,” Washington smiled, slightly, an almost imperceivable quirk of his lips.

 

“Do you still hold my opinion in as high regard as you did before?” John said, coming to stand about thirty centimetres from the front of Washington’s desk.

 

“I do,” Washington said, slowly, one eyebrow raising.

 

“Then please, heed Colonel Hamilton’s words, I can do more for this county at congress than I can going to Philadelphia.”

 

“You wish to resign?”

 

“I think, sir, I do. Unless you would keep me in your army, and not order me to South Carolina,” John bowed his head, his voice resigned to whatever fate Washington had in store for him.

 

Alexander said nothing, his eyes wide as he watched the exchange between John and Washington. He knew how much it would pain John if he were forced to resign, he knew how much the army meant to him, to both of them. He also knew that if John _were_ forced to resign, Alexander would walk with him. 

 

“I suppose you would go with him, would you not?” Washington asked Alexander, cold eyes flicking over him.

 

“I would, sir,” Alexander nodded, his voice cracking despite of his confidence in what he said. 

 

Washington was silent for a few minutes, as he studied the maps and letters in front of him. Alexander could almost hear gears turning in Washington’s head. Before the General looked up at them, his eyes cold as ice.

 

 

“I could not stand to lose one of you, let alone both. I will station you both in Philadelphia, then, do you perchance have a replacement in mind?” Washington sighed.

 

“Tilghman, sir, we spoke with him already, he said he would be willing, if you sanctioned it,” John said.

 

“I do. You may both stay in Philadelphia.”

 

***

 

“Sit down, John you-“ Alexander was dragged from the room by his armpits. “Why did you do that, I had him in a corner-“

 

“You were about to hit him!” John looked at Alex flabbergasted.

 

“He’s an imbecile, he deserved it.”

 

“Alexander, if you do not calm down this instance-“

 

“You’ll what, not have-“

 

“Alex, you’ll get us both hanged,” John put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing him gently, his middle finger pressed in a a mark only they knew about. He moved his hand up to cup the back of Alex’s head, cradling it gently. 

 

“Okay, okay, I’m okay. I’ll go back in an apologise.”

 

“That’s my boy,” John said, his eyes looking deep in to Alex’s, his face curling up in to a smile that seemed lift away Alex’s bad mood like the coming of the sun in the morning. 

 

“All yours,” Alex whispered as he stood, straightening his coat and cravat before dusting down his breeches and walking back into the congress room.

 

“Now, come, let us hand in hand try to get John Adams to do a days work,” John grinned, squeezing Alexander’s hand and following him. 

 

***

Alexander woke to the sun streaming through the gaps in the blinds, he listened to the sounds of the city below his window. Horses’ hooves clattered on the cobbled roads, they neighed and snorted as they were driven, pulling carriages whose wheels rattled as they moved. People’s voices filtered up from the streets below in low murmurs and high pitched giggles. Birds tweeted from the tree that stood just outside his window, its branches scraped along the glass panes as the wind moved it. The sun’s rays illuminated the room, Alexander rolled over on to his back, propping his head up on his elbow as he looked around it. His eyes rested on the figure beside him. John Laurens slept soundly, his body curled into Alex’s side, one arm and one leg thrown over him. He breathed steadily, huffing slightly as Alex moved. John’s hair had formed a veritable bird’s nest that seemed to take up most of the pillow, it framed his face beautifully though and Alexander contented himself with playing with one of the soft, silk like locks. He ran his foot up and down John’s leg, as he turned around fully in the other’s arms. It had been nearly seven years since the war, and yet it still was fresh in his Alexander’s mind,and today was one of the few days he had not woken up due to night terrors.

 

Alexander valiantly struggled against the impulse to wake up, he snuggled further in to John’s arms, burrowing his face in to his shoulder. Their legs by this point were tangled together so much so that it was difficult to tell them apart from each other. John was vulnerable in his rest, though Alexander strongly believed him to be awake. His head rose from its spot on John’s shoulder, his hand moving to brush the baby hairs around John’s hair line. 

 

The impulse to write tugged at him relentless, he knew he was wasting time, though he could hardly bring himself to care. He just wanted to stay in this moment forever. Though, life and light are slowly creeping in to him, waking him up fully.Thoughts rose like a tide in his head, waves crashing through the peace of the morning, demanding to be pondered. Alexander could feel his brain waking up, forcing him to want to _move_ to write. To argue with John Adams, or Burr, or maybe even James Madison, the list could go on. He started to move, but John tugged him closer, one eye cracked open. 

 

“Stop for one moment,” he said, pulling Alex on top of him. 

 

One large hand brushed Alex’s hair from the back of his neck, the next thing Alex knew, John was kissing and sucking. 

 

“Oh,” Alexander sighed sinking into the feeling, letting overwhelm any desire to write. He allowed John to manoeuvre them so Alex rested underneath, luxuriating in the feeling of his lover’s weight on him. He marvelled at the affect John’s hands had on him as they touched each part of him, as though John was intent on learning him all over again, not that Alexander would mind if he did. “John. My Laurens, my love, there is nothing more that I want in this moment than you. Though, we are late for our carriage.”

 

“Very well, there is something I want to give you,” John said, sitting back to admire his handy work, a dark purple bruise was blossoming on Alex’s neck.

 

“Do tell,” Alex searched John’s eyes for any hint of what the other had bought him.

 

“Wait but a moment,” John got up; Alex’s eyes nearly fell out of his skull, his sleep fogged brain had omitted John’s nakedness from his memory of the night before. 

 

His lover was truly an angel, sculpted by God himself, muscle and sinew and skin coming together to form the most beautiful being Alexander had ever had the pleasure and blessing to set his eyes upon. Heat and love consumed him in a raging inferno, if this was a sin, then let him be consigned to the deepest of Dante’s levels of hell. If their love was so impure, so condemnable, then why was it so heavenly? Let them be seduced into Satan’s clutches, Alexander thought, if the way there was so pleasurable, as to give him access to the divine being in front of him. 

 

“Are you waxing poetic in your head again?” John said, coming back to sit on the bed in front of Alex.

 

“About you, my love? Always will I wax poetic,” Alexander grinned, sitting forward to bring their lips together.

 

“No more kisses until I show you what I have got you,” John smiled though he leant in to steal one more kiss from Alex. In his hands he held a small, velveteen box, with a pearly clasp at the front which he undid. He flipped the lid off the box to reveal to Alex a silver band. “We can never marry, not in this life, but, this is not something that would give us away.” John explained, “It is a token, a promise, that no matter if there is no life after this one, our hearts belong together.” 

 

The ring was simple, a plain band of silver with a small garnet set into it, on the inside were the letters _JL,_ John Laurens. John raised his right hand to reveal a similar ring, with an opal inset. 

 

“My John, my love, forever. My heart could never belong to anyone else, in this life or the others after it,” John reached in to the box and slid it onto Alex’s hand. 

 

“One day, in another life, we’ll be married,” John said, bringing Alex’s hand up to his mouth and kissing each one of his fingers. 

 

“I swear we will,” Alex stroked the knuckles of his hand down John’s cheek, feeling the soft skin underneath.

 

***

 

Mount Vernon loomed before their carriage, they each wore the rings around their necks, on matching pieces of leather. The weight of it anchored Alex down to earth as his anxiety bubbled beneath the surface of his skin, like an itch. As the white, imposing building beckoned their attention, the wheel of the carriage crunched the gravel as they turned. John took Alexander’s hand in his and stroked his thumb across the knuckles.

 

“It is just old Washington, his wife and Lafayette there. No political enemies, no talk of the war, just our old General and our dearest friend,” John murmured in to the shell of Alex’s ear.

 

“I know this, I just, feel it in my heart that-“

 

“No more worries, mon coeur, focus on my voice. Breath and relax, we will be just fine. We are simply here to hear what Washington wants of us.”

 

“But the war in the South continues, he will wish to send you there,” Alexander said.

 

“It does not, Alexander, remember? The war is over, long long over, we fought in it side by side; we were there when it ended,” John stroked his hands carefully, so as not to disturb his queue, through Alex’s hair.

 

“Yes, yes I do, I’m being a fool-“

 

“Non, lumière de ma vie, vous n'êtes pas un imbécile,” John said.

 

The carriage reached the door, John gave Alex’s hand one last squeeze before the door was opened and they were unfolding themselves from the confines of the carriage. George Washington stood on the steps, next to him was Martha and in front of them was Lafayette. 

 

“John! Alexander!” Lafayette said, stepping forward and embracing them both in turn, kissing them each four times on the cheek. 

 

“Marquis, I am glad to be able to look upon your face, before you go to France,” John smiled as he kissed the Marquis back. 

 

“My sentiments exactly,” Alexander supplied, returning Lafayette’s greeting. 

 

“I have decided to remain here a few more years, that is the news I brought you here to tell, Adrienne, my wife, has set sail. Our trio will remain a trio for a little while longer.” Lafayette grinned and the three embraced. “The good General has allowed me residence in his home until I find a house for my family. I fear, however, as I do not know Philadelphia as well as either of you, I will be needing your help with this.”  
  
“It would be an honour,” John smiled, still holding on to one of Lafayette’s hands.

 

“Now, for my news, I think,” The General stepped forward, shaking each of their hands, “I have been asked, by congress to lead the country as president.”

 

“General, sir, that is wonderful news. My whole hearted well wishes go with you,” John said, fervently shaking the General’s hand again.

 

“My thanks, Laurens, but I would not be alone in this endeavour. I would ask each of you to assume positions in my cabinet,” Washington looked at them, as both of their mouths fell open in shock.

 

“You would trust us with positions in you cabinet?” John’s mouth almost touched the gravel as he gaped at Washington.

 

“You, the both of you, are my first choice. I trust you both completely and wholeheartedly; indeed there is no one I would choose above you,” Washington said, bowing, his mouth curling up in to a small smile. 

 

“Treasury or State?” Alexander coughed out, regaining composure.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Sir, do you want me to run the Treasury or State department?” Alex said, his eyes trained on Washington’s face.

 

“Treasury,” Washington answered, a slight hint of humour curling the edges of his voice.

 

“I gladly accept the position you offer to me,” Alexander bowed, “you do me an honour, sir, I will endeavour to repay it.”

 

“Thank you, my boy. Laurens, I would offer to you the position of Secretary of State,” Washington turned to John, who turned white.

 

“I- I- Sir, I have no experience in politics. Are you sure I am the best you can do?” 

 

 

***

 

“There is no man I hate more than John damn his name Adams.”

 

“Alexander! He is our vice president,” Washington nearly shouted, he did not actually shout, Washington never actually shouted.

 

“He doesn’t even have a real job!” Alexander paced about the office.

 

“Hamilton!” Washington sat on the chair behind his desk, “you will come up with a solution for this, or I will be forced to find myself another Secretary of the Treasury. I hear Mr Jefferson is waiting for a promotion.”

 

“Sir- I- yes, sir, sorry sir,” Alexander almost physically stop himself from saluting. He restrained himself because if there _was_ someone he hated almost as much as Adams, it was Jefferson.

 

“Off with you,” Washington waved his hand.

 

“Yes, sir,” he bowed and strode out of the office.

 

“I heard raised voices,” John said, catching Alex’s hand and dragging him across the hall to his office, “are you alright?”

 

“It was Adams, you know his very visage annoys me. His person annoys me almost as much as I love you,” Alex sat down heavily on John’s desk.

 

“What can I do, my love, to make you feel better?”

 

“There are many things, though none of them in any way shape or form appropriate for this office,” Alexander drew John closer to him, feeling the heat of his lover burn itself into his skin for the millionth time.

 

“Lafayette asked me in his most recent letter, when I was to be married,” John said, tracing Alex’s jaw with his tongue.

 

“Oh? And what did you reply?” Alexander tried desperately to keep his voice steady.

 

“I asked him how he liked New York, and if Boston was as cold as I had heard; then told him I was going to be a bachelor till I die. I would marry in another life,” John undid Alex’s cravat, sucking another purple bruise in to his skin.

 

“An apt reply I am sure,” Alexander gasped, loosing the battle with his voice and John slid further down his body, taking one of his nipples in to his mouth. 

 

***

 

_12th July 1804_

 

The day dawned, bright and clear, birds flew about the garden; children played in the street. Alexander Hamilton paced his office. John sat on his desk watching as his lover frantically fiddled with his neck tie. They had chosen John’s office for Alexander to get ready in, it was one of the closest to the senate chamber.

 

“You look fine, my love,” John said, placing his hands on Alex’s shoulders and holding him still for a moment, “do try not wear out the carpet.”

 

“I cannot stop pacing, I cannot believe this is happening.”

 

“It is and I do rather like this carpet, they only re-did it in 1800,” John said gazing at the blue carpet.

 

“Well, they’re just going to have to re-do it again; I suppose I could organise it, could I not?” 

 

“I suppose you could.”

 

They were both summoned out of the room, John taking his hands off Alex’s shoulders and giving him a pat on the back. They walked in to the senate chamber, wide eyes looking around at all the faces gathered there. Lafayette was in the guest balcony, he wore a large grin; so were their fellow aides from the war, Richard Meade and Tench Tilghman, both just as happy as Lafayette. John Marshall stood before them, his face solemn; his voice was gravelly as he spoke.

 

“Do you, Alexander Hamilton, solemnly swear that you will faithfully execute the Office of President of the United States, and will to the best of your ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States?”

 

“I swear.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp I am not good at established relationships... neither am I very good at chaptered fics, hence the reason this is a two shot only. Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoyed these two lil fic things!! Please leave comments and kudos if you can, they really do make my day!!

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me, another 1782 au, wow I am so in denial about it... Kudos/comments are very much appreciated by the author. Thank you very much for reading <3 
> 
> Yell with me on tumblr @obi-wan-kxnxbi or @a-ham-esq if you want.


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